


Five Times Kevin Did Something for Charles (And One Time Charles Did Something for Him)

by Soar319



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kevin Has Centipede Legs, M/M, Self-Defense Lessons, Sparring, just real soft you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soar319/pseuds/Soar319
Summary: Kevin shows his love through action and acts of service. Charles also shows his love through action and acts of service. It's just very difficult to come up with said acts when Kevin can do the majority of them himself easily, never requests for anything beyond a kiss, and says nothing about what he needs or wants.
Relationships: Charles & Kevin & Donovan, Charles/Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 57





	1. Groceries

**Author's Note:**

> alt title: what happens when you have to service-lovers and one keeps on out-serving the other

It slipped from his mind when he was so busy trying to adjust to life in Desert Bluffs Too, what with starting a new job, moving in general, learning his students, preparing a curriculum, learning how this town operates, dating a radio host that’s also the prophet for his religion, solving the mystery of the Mudstone Abyss, and much, much more. At least learning how Desert Bluffs operates was a bit easier, as Kevin and his radio show is a most helpful guide. Whether it be community events he should keep an eye out for or if there happens to be a portal to another dimension near the roundabout marked by a circle of cacti (which means he should take a different route to the college). After Donovan’s miracle at the Mudstone Abyss, the two have been getting along rather well. Well, Donovan adapts well to everything. 

But when Charles opens the fridge after about two months of navigating this adventure, he suddenly realizes he doesn’t have any food left inside. He is usually pretty good about maintaining grocery runs, but this past week has been rather hectic, what with the portal opening again on Pleasant Street, beginning a few kindergarten lessons for Donovan, Board of Education meetings, and dinner dates with Kevin. There’s enough for Donovan, so he makes a little meal paired with the last apple juice box. 

Glancing at the clock, the store would be closed by now. Even if it wasn’t, he doesn’t want to leave Donovan in the house alone, and judging how Donovan was already getting sleepy, doesn’t want to drag him out just because he neglected to get food. Charles ignores how his stomach groans a little, washing the plate and utensils. 

“Papa, aren’t you gonna eat?” Donovan asks when he dries his plate. 

“I have a few more things to do, once I’m done I’ll eat, promise.” He ruffles Donovan’s hair, glad that the kid doesn’t have enough strength yet to open the fridge door. “Ready for bed?” As Donovan brushes his teeth and changes, he puts the blanket in the dryer on low for about 10 minutes, so when it’s bedtime, the blanket is nice and toasty warm. Donovan smiles and snuggles right in, murmuring a good night to Charles. He kisses his forehead good night and quietly shuts the bedroom door. 

Are there any delivery places nearby that are still open? Charles tries to go through his mental list of known businesses, but he isn’t really familiar with all the different restaurants around, especially how new ones are popping up here and there. There is one person that knows. It only rings once. 

“ _ Hellooo Charles! How are you today on this fine evening? _ ” Kevin’s voice sings from the other side, and from the rustling of papers in the background, he guesses he’s still at the radio station. Still working at this time of day? 

“Hello Kevin, I called to ask if there are any late delivery places nearby?” Kevin hums in thought, clicking a pen repeatedly. “I forgot to buy groceries for this week, think it’s because I had to stay late with an afterschool meeting…” The clicking stops. “... Kevin?”

“ _ What do you want? _ ” There’s a different rustle of papers, like a notepad being flipped open. 

“What do you mean?” 

“ _ Groceries. _ ” 

“Kevin, I’m not having you do a grocery run for me at this hour of day because I forgot. I’m fine with ordering delivery.” Charles rolls his eyes as Kevin dramatically sighs or whines or a combination of both.

“ _ What foods or meals do you like then? So I don’t have to look for options you don’t like. _ ” He gives a quick list of foods he likes and what Donovan likes. There’s the scratch-scratch of pen on paper. “ _ Okay! Lemme see what I can find, and I’ll get back to you, okay? _ ”

“Thank you so much. And I’m sorry for calling so l-’ 

“ _ Don’t even worry about it! See you later! _ ” And Kevin hangs up before Charles could ask what does he mean by “see you later” and not “goodbye”. Well, Kevin does end all of his broadcasts with “until next time”, so perhaps his default goodbye greeting is that? Charles sits around for a text or phone call, stomach grumbling a little louder. He should invest in fridge reminder notes. 

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings, Charles wondering if Kevin really just ordered delivery to his house. Opening the door, he realizes he was both right and not right; Kevin stands on the porch with each of his centipede legs carrying a grocery bag, his right hand holding two more, and left hand balancing a box of assorted snacks for Donovan. 

“Hiiii Charles!” Kevin greets in his usual sing-song manner, smiling wide. “The store was still open, so I stopped by and got groceries! There’s Donnie’s favorite snacks and juice boxes, ingredients for your favorite meals, a set of new kitchen knives, a knife sharpener - seriously Charles, yours look  _ so dull  _ and you can’t just use one knife for everything - and a bottle of sparkling cider! Non-alcoholic, but I thought you might like it.” 

“K… Kevin, did you really…” He sheepishly smiles and shrugs, Charles realizing with another jolt that there’s still only his car in the driveway. “Did you  _ walk  _ here?!” 

“Mmmmaybe?” He immediately opens the door wider and shoos Kevin inside, grabbing as many bags as he can off the centipede legs. The radio host doesn’t seem the least bit tired or winded, opening up the fridge and sorting things right in. 

“Do you want some water? Food?  _ Are your legs okay?  _ You must be dead tired!”

“Charles, honey, please, I’m a-okay! That was nothing for me!” Kevin kisses his cheek in reassurance. He sits on his heels as he puts everything into Charles’ fridge, humming away as his legs reach up to the higher shelves. Charles puts everything that belongs into the pantry into said pantry, staring at the new set of kitchen knives. They’re no doubt of high quality, gleaming in the light. A butcher knife, chef’s knife, serrated blade, small fruit knife, and a few others he’s unsure what their usage was meant for. It isn’t long before everything has been put away and bags are all bagged up. 

“Let me pay you back, how much was it?” Kevin laughs, waving his hand. 

“Oh don’t bother, don’t worry!” 

“No no, tell me the amount.” Charles flicks his eyes over to the bags in search for a receipt and sees none. Kevin smiles, a mix between coy and smug. 

“Ain’t telling.” 

“At least three-fourths.” 

“Nuh-uh!”

“Half.”

“Nope!” 

“A quarter.”

“Don’t wanna!”

"Kevin.” 

“Charles.” He reaches for his wallet regardless. Kevin rolls his eyes - it’s a little difficult to tell with how his iris is only a few shades above void black, but Charles can feel it - and shakes his head. “You know I’m not going to take anything you give me, right?” 

“You can’t just buy all this and expect me not to pay you back!” 

“I can and I just did.” And before Charles could unfold his wallet, Kevin skips towards the door, waving goodbye over his shoulder with a cheerful smile. “Since we don’t have a collective community dream anymore, I hope your dreams tonight are sweet!” Before he could cross the threshold, Charles grabs his wrist. He doesn’t miss how Kevin’s breath suddenly hitches, other hand reaching for the hilt of his knife for a second but stopping before he actually touches it. 

“Kevin. Actually do answer me, why did you do this? I told you I was fine with some delivery. I could’ve done the grocery run tomorrow.” He loosens his grip so they could actually face each other, but doesn’t let go completely. 

“I like doing and giving you things. You look so happy when I do! And when you’re happy, I’m happy too!” And he can’t argue, because with Kevin’s hopeful smile, it is true. Charles sighs, running his thumb over Kevin’s wrist. 

“Okay, but you have to let me repay you back somehow. I feel bad if you do all this for me and I can’t return it.” He raises Kevin’s hand and kisses gently around the calloused knuckles. “If there’s anything that you need, please tell me, okay?” There’s a strange flicker in Kevin’s void eyes, and Charles hopes that he is about to ask for something. He waves his hand, laughs, and smiles. 

“Kiss Donnie good night for me?” He wants to argue that the request was not even close to repaying Kevin’s kindness, but judging by how late it was now, Charles reluctantly lets go of him. It’s something. They share a quick kiss and Kevin strolls down the road, disappearing from view not long later. Charles goes back inside, makes himself dinner, and before going to bed, kisses Donovan on the forehead. Donovan murmurs in his sleep, snuggling against the cute cartoon sun plushie Kevin won at the carnival last week. 


	2. Shadows

It’s the middle of the night when he feels his shoulder being shaken, Charles sleepily rolling over and opening his eyes wearily. Some of the sleepiness goes away when he realizes Donovan has climbed onto his bed, sitting up with a yawn. 

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Monster under my bed. Can I sleep here tonight?” Donovan asks, clutching his sun plush tightly. He isn’t sure if that means its a literal or imagination monster, but regardless, moves over so Donovan can crawl into the open spot next to him. 

“Of course.” He lets Donovan take the spot against the wall, tucking him in and kissing his forehead. The kid falls asleep not long after, and Charles quietly gets out of bed to check Donovan’s room. He glances under the bed, and blinks when he realizes the shadows are moving. 

He is quite sure shadows aren’t supposed to move like that. Is it actually a dangerous being, a trick of the light, or something Desert Bluffs just runs with? And if it is something like a monster, how is he supposed to deal with this? 

Opening up his phone, Charles grimaces a little when he sees that Kevin is still online, almost considering sending a text about how he works too late instead. But he still sends a text asking if shadows are supposed to swirl underneath beds, and Kevin responds in about ten seconds. 

_im coming right over gimmie like five minutes (smiling teeth emoji, cry laughing emoji, broken clock emoji)_

And before he could send a text saying that he doesn’t need to come over and can just explain over a few messages, his status goes offline. Charles groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. 

Three minutes later, Kevin shows up with one hand on the hilt of his knife, other holding a rather impressive old book. Charles profusely apologizes for calling so late, and receives a smile and a shake of the head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Going to Donovan’s room, Kevin checks underneath the bed, grimacing and setting his book down. “Can you stand outside for a bit?” Charles raises a brow but does so, closing the door behind him. He could hear Kevin moving around a bit, a short chant, and a sound akin to pressurized air escaping a small hole. Silence, a few more noises, and Kevin opens up the door with a smile. “All clear.” 

“What was it?”

“A dormant shadow sleeper. I’m guessing you didn’t do the necessary exorcisms before installing Donnie’s bed?” Necessary _what_ now? “Oh, yours probably isn’t exorcised either! They usually target children’s beds, so you’re not at risk for a while, but better now than later. Much easier to exorcise when they haven’t manifested.” Charles doesn’t know what to comment besides quietly opening up his bedroom door, Kevin’s steps silent. He clears out the shadows under his bed with a barely audible whisper, glancing at Donovan every few seconds to make sure he was still asleep. He even makes sure the pages don’t crinkle or rustle when he closes his book, standing back up. The blanket has shifted a bit down, so Kevin tucks Donovan back in, gives a kiss on the forehead, and quietly shuts the door. They both go back to the front entrance. 

“Thank you so much, Kevin.” 

“Good idea letting him sleep against the wall. Makes it harder for any monsters to grab.” Charles makes a mental note to exorcise his entire house with any and all rituals he has studied over the years. “I’ll swing by next week to make sure there aren’t any remaining shadows, but I’m pretty sure they won’t be bothering you again.” 

“Is there anything you want before you go?” As always, Kevin shakes his head with a little smile. “Oh, come on Kevin, there has to be something.” And as always, he shakes his head and waves his hand. Charles pulls him close and kisses him gently, moving to kiss the corners of his mouth, up to the tip of his nose, and between the eyes. Finally, he places a soft kiss right on Kevin’s forehead, right above his almost-closed third eye. When he backs off, Kevin looks a little dazed, blinking a few times. Charles couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing his cheek, right along a scar. “A good night kiss. So you have good dreams tonight.” 

“... Oh.” Kevin’s cheeks flush pink, his usual big and radiant smile small and shy. “... Can I have one more?” He points to his lips. Charles laughs and caresses his cheeks. 

“Of course, sunshine.” One more goodnight kiss and Kevin leaves with a dreamy expression, waving goodbye with a giggle. Charles watches until he disappears from view, going back inside and curling up next to Donovan. He falls asleep not long later, knowing at the very least, there aren’t any monsters lurking underneath their beds.


	3. Summer Cleaning

Summer cleaning has come around once more and Charles finds Kevin as more of a whirlwind of productivity than usual. And that's saying something. 

"It's a tradition from old Desert Bluffs! Get rid of the old and bring in the new! Anything expired or going to expire or just sooo out of date!" He came to visit the radio station to see Kevin dusting, mopping, sweeping, sorting, and dusting again all at the same time. There's a giant garbage bag steadily filling up with old editorials and sponsorship offers. Kevin ties it up and hurls it out the window, Charles hearing a soft thump of it landing among others. If he glances out the window, he could see several stores also cleaning, many airing out their floor mats. 

"Oh wow, the entire town is really cleaning up!" 

"You should too! Clean the floors, air out blankets, mattress linings, dust furniture, vacuum carpets, all the works!" A steel-wool sponge and bucket of soapy water slams down on the desk, Charles honestly unsure Kevin got it from. "Ooh! I'll swing by later! We can clean your house together!" Four of his centipede legs have more sponges, scrubbing at the dried blood on the walls. Two are still dusting as the last two mop. 

"Do you need any help here?" Even if Kevin was an absolute multitasking machine, it surely can't be easy. But Charles gets a laugh and a shake of the head, Kevin leaning on his broom as his legs switch tasks  _ again _ . Did they finish dusting already? Where did they even get that bleach? 

"Vanessa and I got it all down peachy! The town the next few days is going to just be a big party of cleaning, so you should go home and get started too!" His attention was quickly diverted to getting rid of the crusted blood on the radio equipment and specks of dust still lingering on the top of the shelves. Charles knows he isn't going to stop until said offenders are completely gone from every crack and corner, so he wishes Kevin good luck, waves goodbye to Vanessa, and leaves. 

He stops by Grandma Josephine's to pick up Donovan, noting that all the demons are cleaning too. Each one undertook a different task: cleaning the roof, sweeping the porch, trimming the cacti, mopping the floor, washing the dishes, etc. Donovan is even helping out, handing books to Erik so they can organize the bookshelves. They say that he's a very, very good helper and procures a shiny sun sticker for him to take home. 

To introduce Donovan to the concept of cleaning his room is both a big and cautious step, as it can either result in a frustrated tantrum or actual desire to organize. So Charles explains it in the simplest terms he can think of: cleaning is when you make a room look prettier or easier to walk through, such as how Erik was making the books easier to find by organizing them by series. So Donovan's cleaning is putting his stuffed plushies on the bed instead of the ground, putting away his toys, and smacking the pillow so it fluffs up. He does ask for help getting rid of the dust under his bed (because shadows might eat it as food), and Charles is more than happy to help. 

It does take a bit out of the kid, so while he naps, Charles turns his attention towards cleaning the house. He tackles the kitchen first, which is already pretty clean. The fridge and pantry are cleared out of anything expired or old. The utensils and plates are all reorganized. He does a general scrub down of the counter, sink, and dining table. His office is next, and Charles realizes that  _ wow  _ he has a lot of old notes and lecture notes. He separates important paperwork and documents, then lecture notes that can be used for future classes, and papers he still needs at least till the end of the semester. He sorts through the other notes, discarding and organizing as he goes. 

It is a bit therapeutic to see the mess begin to shrink down. After another half hour, the left side of his desk has been cleared out, files properly organized and named depending on what documents are inside. Halfway through the right side, the doorbell rings. Kevin shows up with an arsenal of cleaning supplies, beaming from ear to ear. He immediately proceeds to sweep and mop all the floors, dusting furniture as he goes and Charles can't believe how much he missed. 

"This is a lot easier because there's no dry blood!" Kevin says when Charles asks if he needs help. He passes by Donovan's room quietly, though does sneak in to quickly wipe down the little table and chair. Charles tries to help by sweeping a separate room, but gets about five feet in before Kevin skips in, taking the broom from his hand and a cheek kiss in passing. 

"Kevin." Charles sternly said, holding his hand out for the broom back. 

"Charles." Kevin grins and races off to the next room. After failing to get the broom or mop back, they settle on a compromise. Charles organizes and sorts while Kevin cleans and scrubs. It almost works perfectly, as they don't need to play the "do you want to keep or throw this out" game as much and Charles gets the look he wants while Kevin makes it spotless. Donovan wakes up eventually and Kevin introduces him to the joy of sliding down freshly cleaned wooden floors while wearing socks. Needless to say, Charles finds he's both sorting and chasing the two around in fear that one of them is going to fall on their face (even if the scene of Kevin sliding down the hallway with Donovan on his shoulders cheering for him to go faster is unbearably adorable). 

By the end of the day, the house is literally spotless, Charles unsure if he's ever seen a kitchen counter so shiny before. Not even new houses have this level of shine. Kevin wipes away a layer of sweat on his forehead, exhaling with a smile. 

"Now that's what I call a summer-cleaning!" 

"All thanks to you. Thank you for all your help, as always sunshine." He glances at the sweat. "Do you want to take a shower before you head home? I'll even drive." Kevin waves his hand. 

"Nah, no need! I'll just shower when I get home!" Before he could pick up all his cleaning supplies, Charles rests a hand on his shoulder, gently. 

"At least stay for dinner?" And he does. They make and eat dinner together. Charles throws soap suds at Kevin for trying to wash the dishes alone when he's already done so much, Kevin throws back for Charles trying to do the dishes alone, and they end up making a mess of the kitchen and their outfits. They eventually clean and dry all the dishes, though now regardless both need a shower. Kevin grins and drags Charles into the bathroom to shower together, and though it was a bit of a tight squeeze in the one-person shower, they manage to make it work. 

Bedtime rolls around, and after giving Donovan plenty of goodnight kisses, Kevin stands at the doorway. He kisses Charles softly. 

"See you tomorrow." He returns it with another kiss. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" Charles gestures to all the cleaning supplies resting on Kevin's legs. He gets a light laugh and wave of the hand. Kevin walks away into the night and disappears around the street corner. Charles wonders if he should ask for Kevin to spend the night again sometime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family can be a miracle child a centipede prophet and a theologian   
> Also ngl the image of Kevin sliding around on socks w donnie makes me cry w joy let him be the fun dad


	4. Defense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got some blood n canon-typical violence in this one

With a few minutes left after his lecture, Charles lets his students copy down this week's homework and organizes his papers. He turns on the radio, smiling when Kevin's voice floats on through. 

" _I do hope you all come down for the grand opening of Atrium, I know I will be! Now, let's take a little peek at traffic, shall we?_ " Charles can already feel today's stress ebbing away, raising the volume a little. His students are now packing up their things, putting notebooks and pencil cases away. " _Two black vans drive round and round and round in the sands, round and round like their wheels. How fun! One has split off from the round-round circle and are now heading off in a new direction. It looks like… oh! Driving towards Desert Bluffs Community College!_

 _The passengers, a group of people, sit in the back of said vans, unbothered by the jostling. They are all dressed in blinding yellow robes - my, my, am I a fan of their fashion choices! - and all chanting about the Smiling God - ooh, I love them even more! They wave knives in the air - where do I sign up for this club? - and chanting that there is only one god and to learn… of others is unacceptable and should be..._ " Charles freezes when the sound of screeching tires echoes from outside. A loud thunk, and he rushes to check the South exit. He pales when he sees shadows moving behind it. 

The auditorium. There's an emergency exit leading to the back of the school.

"HURRY!" All his students sprint for the auditorium, Charles holding the door open. With each loud thunk against the entrance, his breath hitches. As soon as the last student ducks through, he slams and locks the doors. 

" _... I must say, I'm beginning to like the sound of this group less and less. What is the word? Zealots? Now, I will admit, I was a little… fanatic about the Smiling God before, but my lovely, charming boyfriend and teacher Charles has shown me that we should learn and accept differentiating beliefs in Desert Bluffs!_ " As soon as he locks, a loud slam echoes outside. " _I even mentioned it in last week's sermon!_ " He whispers a prayer or several under his breath, turning to his students. 

"Quick, out the emergency exit. Get to safety." He hurries them to said exit. The doors to the auditorium are slammed against when they're halfway across the room, the exit sign glowing red. He opens the emergency exit and they sprint through. 

" _Desert Bluffs Too is a welcoming, spiritual town that accepts everybody, regardless of where you stand! We will all be devoured eventually in the great jaws of the Smiling God! And I would really, really appreciate it if we all took that to heart!_ " The auditorium doors burst open, and Charles shoves the last student through the doors. " _Oh. Oh, this looks bad. I don't like reporting on bad news, it dampens the mood you know? That should do it for traffic._ " He locks them and throws the keys into some dark corner, in hopes that it buys more time for them to escape. " _To raise the mood back up, let's check in with today's weather!_ " 

Kevin's voice disappears and he suddenly feels very, very alone. 

Charles scrambles for the nearest staircase, hearing shouts and yells behind him. There's another exit, he can go up and around. He needs to direct attention away from his students and towards him. Sprinting up the stairs, he bursts into the upstairs floor and runs down the wing. The thudding footsteps behind him grow louder and heavier. His lungs are beginning to burn. 

Flinging open the door for the next staircase, Charles runs down the steps. He rounds the bend, and a hand grabs at the back of his blazer. The back of his knee buckles, the steps rush up, and he crashes. Each step sends a sharp spike of pain through his body as he tumbles down. His glasses go flying, Charles holding back a cry of pain as he bashed against the door, rolling into the hallway. He scrambles up and gets in two steps. Hands grab at his blazer and hair and his head slams against the ground. 

The wind gets knocked out of his chest. Weight presses down, a raspy cough forced out of his throat. Flailing and struggling against hands, he tries to throw a punch, crying out as his wrist slams onto the floor. The world is a ringing, spinning blur. The flash of metal cuts through the fog and Charles shuts his eyes and screams. 

_If there be a God, Smiling or not, benevolent or malevolent, please, please take care of Donovan and Kevin-!_

There's a gasp, and it takes a moment for him to register that it isn't his. His lungs are suddenly filling again, weight freed. The world is an indiscernible mess, Charles still trying to get oxygen back to his brain. Something yellow, bright, holding his cheek and yelling. He struggles to hear past the ringing, eyes darting to the left; a body, the body that was on his, metal glinting in the side of their head. 

He realizes its a dagger impaled in their head, and pales. 

"Charles?! Charles, answer me!" Everything in the distance is vague shapes, but the face right against his, the hands shaking his shoulders, it comes into focus. Kevin comes into focus. His face is stricken with worry and… fear? His black eyes are strangely shiny, like covered in a thin film of water. 

"K… Kevin…?" He surges forward and hugs Charles tightly, sighing in relief. His mind is still trying to catch up with panic, adrenaline still ringing. It is like lead tied down his limbs. Kevin pulls back, back straightening. His mouth twists, a smile that shows off all his teeth and pulls at his scars. A smile that threatens to shatter glass. The black eyes become even darker, plunging into void. The legs crack and stretch, Kevin slowly standing up and drawing his main knife with a _shiink_. His shadow covers Charles. It feels like Kevin is holding him. 

"I must say, as lovely as you all are about our malevolent and devouring god, you do not appear to have _ever_ sat in one of my sermons." Voice like syrup, so sweet it's almost sickening. "I am so, so _unbelievably_ not happy right now." The other members already have backed up a little, gripping their knives with more apprehension now. "And I don't like not being happy." The legs flex and crack. 

When he lunges, Charles turns his face and curls up, tucking himself against the wall. There's the sounds of metal screeching on metal, screams, liquid splashing on the floor, and the heavy smell of copper filling the air. He remains curled up, trying to calm his racing heart.

There's a moment, where a shadow looms over him, cold. He turns his face to see a knife plunging down. He barely cries out the first letter before Kevin's shadow covers him, an intangible darkness that promises more shelter than any bunker. There's a scuffle and ends with a body thumping to the ground. And it is not Kevin's. 

All goes quiet. He slowly uncurls, breaths still shallow and grasping for oxygen. 

Kevin is standing among bodies with stained robes, sheathing his knives with a heavy exhale. He tilts his head back, clasps his hands together, and murmurs something under his breath - a prayer, a thanks, or perhaps just words to calm himself down. Blood drips from his hands, down his forearms, and off his elbows. The centipede legs slowly tense and relax, clicking against each other. His expression is higher than a kite. The sunlight streams in from a window above, making the blood glitter. It hugs Kevin, making him glow. 

Charles' vision makes him look slightly out of focus, but it added more to the halo-glow. By several deities, Kevin looks _godly_. 

He lowers his head back down to finish his prayer, spreads his hands, and lets the last few drops of blood drip off his fingernails. Stepping out of the circle of bodies, Kevin slowly kneels in front of Charles. He looks around the floor and picks something up. Gently, with the care of a newborn animal, Kevin slides Charles' glasses back on Charles' nose. One of the lenses is cracked. 

Charles doesn't bother saying anything. He immediately flings his arms around Kevin and hugs tightly, burying his head in his shoulder. He doesn't care that it smells nothing but blood and his own clothes are getting stained. He doesn't care that his glasses are cracked and his body aches. 

He does care that he's alive, Kevin's alive, and they're both here with hearts that are still racing and adrenaline levels that are still trying to come down. A suppressed sob escapes and he tightens his hold, wetting Kevin's shirt even more. Kevin tightens his hold on him as well, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances. 

"It's okay, Charles. I'm here, I'm here." The hallway only echoes the sounds of Charles' sobs for a while, Kevin cradling him and running his hands through his curls in attempts to ease his heart. At some point, he sat down against the wall and pulled Charles into his lap, letting him continue crying. 

Eventually, the sobs ease up into heavy breaths and choked up sniffles, and heavy breaths change into deep, controlled ones. Charles rests his forehead against Kevin's shoulder, letting the last of overwhelming relief wash away from his eyes. He takes a deep breath. 

"Thank you, Kevin… thank you." And Kevin gently smiles, so small and soft and genuine, a smile reserved only for him and Donovan. 

"For you, anything." A kiss that has an aftertaste of copper, but Charles could care less. They spend a couple of more minutes in the hallway, just holding each other. Rocking back and forth, listening to each other's heartbeat, grasping for warmth. Sometime in the silence, Kevin calls for the clean-up crew to come, to bring extra crates and mops this time. It is with a jolt that Charles realizes the weather must still be going on. 

"Kev-" 

"It's a real long weather segment." Kevin reassures. "But… I think I should head back to the station now." He slowly loosens his hold but does not let go of Charles. When Charles tries to stand up the world suddenly tilts sideways, Kevin already prepared to catch him. He rights himself back up, still wobbling from the adrenaline rush. "Let me carry you." And before he could protest, Kevin is already bending down and tucking his hands under his knees, Charles finding himself in Kevin's arms bridal-style. He's too tired to try to squirm out, opting to just lean his head on his shoulder and let the world pass by. 

After a quick stop to grab Charles' bag and the keys, they go to the radio station together and Kevin wraps up traffic. He reminds Desert Bluffs Too once again that it is not tolerated to attack others for religious reasons, even if the Smiling God will devour them all regardless (self-defense is allowed, and personal reasons are ambigious). He praises Charles for his bravery and dedication to his students and follows up with a report that all the students have gotten to safety. 

He skips over the part where it was an attempted murder and that he had to step in. Just in case Donovan is listening. 

They pick up Donovan together from Josephine's. Kevin cooks dinner, washes the dishes, and sweeps the floor. When bedtime rolls around, the usual time he leaves, he awkwardly stands at the doorway, shifting his weight back and forth. Before he says anything, Charles takes his hands and guides him back into the house. 

"I don't think neither of us want to be alone tonight." They change for bed and lie down, Kevin immediately curling up against Charles. It's the same comfort as the moment in the staircase, the physical sensation and warmth solidifying the fact they're still here. Kevin rests his hand on his chest. Charles reaches up and intertwines their fingers together, squeezing. He gets a squeeze back. 

"... Charles?"

"Yes?"

"I know you don't really like my certain… specialities… and I'm sorry for ruining your shirt." Charles blinks and raises his head. Kevin's still lying on his chest, face turned away. 

"Kevin, you saved my life and all my students by extension. I could care less that you stained my shirt." He lets go of their hand holding to caress his cheek, nudging for him to look up. Kevin reluctantly does. "You saved my life. I don't know how much I can stress that." He can feel a shiver go down his spine, remembering how terror gripped him so tightly in those seconds in the stairwell. Praying, praying for help. "I owe you a debt." 

Kevin laughs, waves his hand, and smiles. 

"How about a kiss to pay it off?" Charles wants to argue that it doesn't even remotely come close, but tugs Kevin up so he can kiss him, whispering a thank you. And again. And again. And again, Kevin giggling as Charles showered him with more kisses and thank yous, at some point turning him onto his back so he could continue. In the relative darkness, he can see that film of water over Kevin's eyes once more, but it does not shine with worry. His smile is small and soft, little bits of laughter slipping out with each kiss. 

Several gods, Charles feels himself falling in love all over again. All of today's troubles and terror are pushed away, replaced with Kevin's smile. 

He gently caresses the smile scars, placing a kiss on Kevin's forehead, the very tips of his eyelashes, his nose, and finally lips again. 

"Thank you, Kevin." Kevin's eyes are half-lidded and sleepy, reaching up and caressing Charles' cheek. One more kiss and they lie back down. Kevin resumes his position back against Charles' chest, Charles loops his arm around his shoulders, and they hold hands. 

They fall asleep peacefully, Charles rapidly wishing that Kevin would stay the night more. 

In the middle of the day, Charles half-woke up to Donovan whispering to an awake Kevin that he had a bad dream. Kevin carefully moves off him (he already misses the warmth) and lets the kid take his spot, the side closest to the wall. He pretends to still be asleep as Kevin moves his arm to cradle Donovan close. 

"Don't worry about any more bad dreams, I'll take care of them." Kevin whispers with a wink. Donovan muffles a giggle and snuggles up against Charles, falling back asleep quick. Kevin then sits at the foot of the bed for a while, just watching the two of them sleep, or at least Donovan. Charles half considers revealing that he's awake when Kevin reaches out. 

He gently strokes Donovan's cheek with his left hand, his flower tattoos glowing a little. One of the vines wrapped around his index finger reaches out and brushes Donovan's skin, tiny flowers blooming along the vine with sparkles of light. Donovan relaxes, a small smile stretching across his face. 

Kevin retracts his hand after a bit, the vine wrapping back around his finger once more. He watches Donovan for a few more minutes before moving to the other side of the bed, cuddling back up with Charles, and falling asleep. Charles weaves his fingers through his curls, presses a kiss to his temple, and falls back asleep as well. 

That morning, during breakfast, Donovan happily tells Kevin that he had the nicest dream where they all went on a picnic, ate ice cream, Kevin sprouted wings to take them flying, the clouds were so fluffy, and he can't even remember what the bad dream was about. Kevin smiles and pats his hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gotta get at least one x protects y prompt in here you know  
> and plenty of soft afterwards


	5. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This goes up n down n a little bit back up

A week passes since the attack. Chalres comes home and toes off his shoes, pausing when he sees Kevin sitting at the dining table. From the pen and papers, it looks like he's working on an editorial, but he usually just works on those in his office or at the station. 

"Kev?" At the sound of his name, he turns around with a smile that quickly turns into a joyful grin. 

"Charles!" Kevin grabs a box that Charles didn't notice sitting on the table, skipping over bouncing on his heels. "I got something for you!" It's a long rectangular box and only has a slight amount of blood on it. Charles set down his bag, noting that Kevin's bounciness is the kind when he's both very, very excited and very, very anxious. Opening it up, he blinks when it's a stick nestled in some tissue paper. "I know you're not too big on close-quarters combat so I thought this might suit you more!" Taking the stick out, Charles presses a button in the middle, flinching when the ends snapped out to form a sturdy staff. 

"... Woah."

"It's easily retractable and portable so it won't be a hassle to carry around!" Another click of the button and it retracts back into the center stick. Charles isn't sure how to feel about it, as he made it a point to avoid Desert Bluffs Too's more… temperamental side. Not to mention, Kevin has stressed before that if he needs something beyond negotiations, get him. 

But as last week proved, trying to avoid it wasn't going to work. He can't rely on Kevin all the time. What if he needs to defend himself or gods forbid, Donovan, and Kevin isn't there? Charles grips the stick tighter. 

"I know, I know you don't like combat in general, and that it's not really your nature to fight..." Kevin says, wringing his hands together. "A-And if you don't like it, I understand, I can return it-" 

"It's good to have some experience in self-defense." Charles smiles and rests his hand on Kevin's shoulder, cutting off his anxious rant. "I'd love to learn. Can you be my teacher for this?" And oh wow, he's never seen black eyes light up so much. Kevin practically glows with excitement, a beaming smile going ear to ear. Thankfully, metaphorically. 

They clear out a spot in the backyard, Donovan watching from the porch as Kevin and Charles face each other. Kevin has a detached broom handle, Charles with his new staff; he jumps again when it snaps open.

"Whenever you're ready! Impress me!" Kevin cheers. His expression is relaxed and cheerful, as if they weren't pointing their respective weapons at each other and instead chatting about what to have for dinner. Charles isn't going to lie, there's a part of him that's pretty terrified. 

This is  _ Kevin  _ he's going up against. The one that can single-handedly take down a zealot group. Crawled out of corporate hell. From rumors, survived in this Desert Otherworld for years alone. Make people stand down just by putting his hand on the hilt of his knife. 

So, no pressure. 

He swings and Kevin easily blocks, twists, and swings back. Charles just barely blocks and ducks out of the second swing. He gets about an eighth of a breath in before Kevin charges forward, more or less flailing to block the onslaught of attacks. Ducking, he tries to attack, hitting the side of broom handle. Another second and the ground suddenly gives away before his feet, his back hitting the sand with a poof. The end of the broom handle is up against his face. It lowers and is replaced with Kevin kneeling next to him. 

"That was an amazing first try! Most people don't last more than five seconds against me!" He takes Kevin's hand and stands back up. "Here, let me give you some pointers!" Kevin moves behind him, arm against arm. "Loosen your grip a little and hold it like this. Less like a bat." Their hands rest on top of each other, gently adjusting his fingers. "Spread your legs and bend your knees a little, gives more stable balance." Kevin's breath is hot against the back of his neck. Or that's the sun. "There you go..." Like a shadow, adjusting him until they were near mirror poses. 

Wow. It does feel a lot better. 

"Remember to keep your arms bent. Try not to lock your joints, it really limits your mobility." Kevin returns back to his spot and readies the broom handle again. "Ready for round two? I promise I'll go a little slower!" 

"Were you just showing off the first time then?" He gives a sheepish smile. Charles pouts and readies his staff.

The second round goes a little better, Charles feeling a lot more comfortable with the feel of the staff now. He blocks a lot more of Kevin's onslaught, but he still sees things a second too late - he tries to swing at Kevin when he was crouched, and realizes his mistake. Kevin easily jabbed the handle between the staff and his body and twisted, ripping the staff from his hands in one fluid motion. It goes flying and the handle is right up against the side of his head. Kevin smiles and gently taps his ear, lowering the handle. 

"I'm impressed! I didn't think Mr. Teacher here had a fighting streak in him!" He's clapping and bouncing on his heels in excitement. "You're so much better than I thought, Charles! Maybe this will be easier than I thought!" Kevin congratulates. They exchange a quick kiss, Kevin kissing his cheek and craning his neck a little further towards his ear. "I didn't think you'd look so  _ irresistible  _ while fighting too." He whispers, and if Donovan wasn't sitting right there on the porch, Charles is pretty sure he would have dropped straight to his knees. 

"Can I try?" Donovan pipes up from the porch. 

"Of course! Here, lemme see..." Kevin gives Donovan a long branch, Charles replacing his spot on the porch as they face each other. He does a much, much slower version of his fight with Charles, letting Donovan get a few hits in and dramatically stumbling back each time. The kid giggles at his acting, and inevitably, he fells Kevin with a little jab to the side, Kevin collapsing with a gasp and dropping the broom handle, hand on his forehead. "Oh spare me!" 

"I win!" Donovan proclaims as he sits on Kevin's chest, raising the stick in victory. Kevin is barely suppressing his own laugher, beaming. 

"A worthy adversary! I have been bested, a new hero has risen from the light!" Kevin opens up a sparkling eye. "But a victor should never let his guard down! Surprise attack!" He yells, surging up and ticking Donovan on his sides. They both go down in a fit of giggling and flailing, laughing gleefully as they tried to out-tickle the other. Kevin lets go after a bit and Donovan hugs him tightly, begging to play again. "Of course, what do you want to do now?" 

As Kevin runs around the backyard with Donovan on his shoulders making fake plane noises, Charles feels his chest bloom with warmth at how adorable it is, cheeks almost hurting with how much he's smiling. It has been just him and Donovan for a while now, and though Donovan has reassured many times he doesn't mind it just being them two ("you're the best papa ever!"), he always wondered if he wanted another parental figure. He snaps out of his thoughts when Donovan yells for him to join, Kevin already jogging over to drag him off the porch. 

About once or twice a week, depending on how their schedules lined up, they sparred in the backyard. Charles found himself getting more and more used to the feel of his staff, managing to do more complex moves with time. It was also a great source of exercise and almost a little therapeutic, practicing his moves against an invisible enemy whenever he felt particularly pent up. Or spar with Kevin and after said session, go into the showers together. 99% of the time their matches ended with the broom handle against his face. Once, it didn't. 

It was a long match, Charles excited because he was holding out for much longer than usual, exhausted because no matter how long they fight, Kevin fights with the same intensity as when they began. His mind was working overtime to keep up with each jab and swing, dodging and side-stepping. From past matches, it was only a matter of seconds before Kevin overwhelms him again. 

An idea pops into his head. Stupid. Probably won't work. But he has spent his life studying faith, and he really,  _ really  _ wants to win against Kevin at least once. 

When they get locked again in a series of blocks, Charles jams his staff between Kevin's arm and body, lifting up from his armpit and flinging him forward. Kevin immediately goes for a roll but before he could get back up, Charles swings the staff down, stopping right before it hits his neck. Kevin freezes, eyes wide. Charles pants heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead. His lungs are on fire, his muscles ache, his curls are sticking to the side of his face, and he feels  _ on top of the world _ . 

"Got you." He managed to say, Kevin still staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. A smile slowly stretches across his face, so bright and radiant, all of his teeth shining. 

" _ CHARLES! _ " Kevin nigh-on shrieks, hurling himself forward and tackling Charles in a bear-hug. "I'm so, so proud of you babe! Oh my Smiling God! That was  _ amazing _ !" Charles blushes as Kevin gushes over his moves, hugging him back and taking the onslaught of kisses with a laugh. He doesn't stop complimenting when they go back inside for a break. He also broadcasts to the entire town of Charles' victory, and Charles tries to hide behind his lecture papers as his students stifle their snickers. 

The next spar comes around and he finds himself once again staring at the sky in under ten seconds. Kevin smiles at him, and he gives an incredulous pout back. 

"Did you let me win last time?" 

"Or you got lucky." Second round, and he's at the end of the broom handle in under ten seconds again. Kevin smiles, he pouts, and repeats his accusation. "Or you got lucky. Who is to say who luck favors?" Third round, and Charles feels so upset and excited- upset because "easy" Kevin still took him countless sessions to beat once, excited because that means he has a new challenge now. 

A few days later, after a training session, they sit on the porch and watch the sun exchange. Kevin sits in his lap, arms draped around his shoulders and head rested in the crook of his neck. Charles runs his fingers through his curls, occasionally giving a pleasant scratch here and there. Their staff and broom handle sit to the side. Charles slows his movements down, tightening his hold a bit more. 

"I know you tell me time and time again to leave the fighting to you, and I know you are much better at it than me, but..." Kevin's eyelashes tickle his neck. "I still worry, you know…? About you. About you getting hurt." The laugh that follows has a sharp edge to it. 

"You don't need to worry about that. My pain tolerance is much higher than the average person and these legs lets me fight even when I'm incapacitated." Just hearing that sequence of words is painful. Charles doesn't want justification. 

"I know. I know, but still. The possibility is there. I shouldn't rely on you always. So… can you, maybe, fight with your knives next time?" Kevin tenses up so harshly, like every muscle froze in place. "Fake ones! Or rubber! Or even those fake retractable ones, that should be fine right? I just notice that the majority of Desert Bluffs Too fights with, well, knives and-" 

"... Okay." Kevin murmurs, though does not relax. "I'll bring fake knives next time." 

"Is something wrong with that? If you're uncomfortable with it, tell me." Charles reaches up and takes Kevin's hand, intertwining their fingers together. He squeezes gently. He gets a small squeeze back. 

"It's fine. It makes sense, you would be fighting people with knives more." There's a strange tremble at the end of his voice. Trying to find the source of Kevin's discomfort is like groping around in a void. To get Kevin to say what his discomfort is like moving a mountain range. Charles has his suspicions and theories, but he knows they will all be neither confirmed or denied. 

They sit in silence for a few more minutes. Kevin has not relaxed. Near the end of the exchange, he buries his face in Charles' neck. 

"Nobody will hurt you." Kevin whispers, tightening his hug. "You or Donnie." The way that the centipede legs crack and tense, scanning for threats in an imaginary hallway. " _ Ever _ ." Through a forced smile. 

Charles stays quiet, opting to just kiss Kevin's head and watch the remainder of the switch. The next time they spar, Charles finds himself with a fake knife at his throat in under five seconds. Kevin's eyes betray nothing of what he is feeling, a matte black. 

"Your aim is to keep me at a distance." He said, backing away and returning to his original position. They try again. Charles holds out for slightly over five seconds, then the knife is right up against his head, pointed at 90 degrees. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Kevin's hand trembling. Matte black still. "If I am getting too close, that is when you should start attacking me. You still have the range advantage." 

"I don't want to hit you though." 

"I can take it." 

"I'm not going to hit you." 

"That's not how a fight works. If you want to learn, then you're going to have to hit me a few times." 

"Kevin." 

"Charles." They stare at each other, Charles taking a deep breath and reluctantly nodding. Kevin retracts the knife and goes back into position. When he charges forward, Charles hesitates, and has the knife pressing against his chest in two seconds. Kevin shakes his head. "Charles. You can't hesitate in a fight." They try again. Charles swings when Kevin goes to attack, wincing when it makes a sharp  _ crack  _ sound against Kevin's arm. It does successfully deter him for a second, and he manages to fend him off for another five seconds before the knife lands down on his shoulder. 

Three more rounds, each time his hesitation to hurt Kevin resulting in the knife "stabbed" into him. Fourth round, he pushes it down as hard as he could, striking Kevin repeatedly to keep him at bay. It feels like a shoe that's far too small, a shirt that's squeezing at his chest, a pebble in a sock. As much as he wants to learn, it doesn't feel good at all. The longer he holds Kevin back, the tighter the lump in his throat becomes. 

And as Kevin "stabs" him in the side because he was faltering again, he can see that Kevin is trembling. Charles gently takes his hand with the fake knife. 

"Let's call it a day, okay?" He takes his hand and goes back inside. They shower off the sweat, have an early dinner, Kevin helps Donovan solve a puzzle, and Charles takes him to bed. Kevin stays for the night, curls up next to Charles, and refuses to let go of his hand throughout the entire night. The following morning, he makes an extra large breakfast, makes Charles' favorite coffee, cleans the whole house, and organizes all his lecture notes by religion. Charles tells him that it's okay, they both weren't enjoying the knife-staff routine, he's not upset. Kevin's mouth twitches in a wavering smile. 

He asks one of the church members instead to help him with that pairing, so he meets up with Keegan once every week to practice. It is a lot more physically demanding, Charles walks away with more bruises and scrapes, but he feels like he learned a lot more. Also, impressing Kevin with his new moves is always a plus. If Kevin knows of these lessons, he doesn't comment. But Charles does notice he's been getting a lot more massages, gentle kisses, and more ice packs than usual in the freezer. They sit on the porch for the sun exchange and Kevin buries his face in his neck, each breath tickling. 

"Kevin?" He makes a sound of acknowledgement. "Do you want anything?" He makes a sound of refusal. "Sunshine, you've done so much for me. Surely you want something?" No. A shake of the head and a wave of the hand. "Okay. But if you ever want anything, just tell me, alright?" Charles' heart skips a beat as Kevin stirs slightly. 

"... Just let me stay like this for a little more." Kevin whispers, words muffled against his skin. Charles does not say how he would let Kevin stay like this for all of eternity if he wanted, cradled in his arms. He smiles, kisses his temple, and holds him until he gets up to head to the station. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin n Charles are both service partners n just trying to out-service the other except Kevin keeps on winning so guess who's about to pamper the shit out of him for revenge


	6. Break Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the word count for this chapter is more than all the past 5 chapters combined  
> i was mad in the mood for soft

For the past few days, Kevin has been looking worse for wear. Not meaning he has blood on his outfit again, Charles learned that's not usually a point of concern 80% of the time. But when he visited the radio station with Kevin's favorite coffee, upon walking in, got hit with something so  _ sickeningly bitter  _ wafting from the break room he had to take a few steps back and retch. 

"What  _ is that?! _ " Vanessa floated out, rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh. 

"It's Kevin's coffee, a special recipe." If he stands at the right angle, he can see into the break room. The sight of crushed white powder on the counter is very, very worrying. 

"How can you stand being in that room?" Charles holds the front door open to try to let fresh air in. He still holds his hand over his nose. 

"I'm a ghost, can't smell it as much as you can. It does make my head spin a little." 

"I'm throwing that out, it can't be good for him-" As if on cue, Kevin rounds the corner, perking up. Charles notices he's slightly trembling. 

"Charles! And Vanessa! Hello hello you two!" He skips into the break room and chugs an entire mug of whatever ungodly caffeinated liquid is in the pot, only coffee by name. Charles stared in a mixture of shock and horror, half considering marching right in and slapping the mug out of Kevin's hands. 

"You should really stop drinking that stuff, Kev." Vanessa muttered, crossing her arms. Kevin laughed, sharp. 

"Oh, it's fine! Perfectly safe!" Waves his hand. "I've drank this plenty of times and nothing happened so far!" He pours another cup of cursed liquid. "I'm playing a sponsored message right now, so sorry, I don't have much time to chat!" He turns and smiles at Charles. "Are we still on for dinner?" Charles weakly smiles back. 

"Um… yeah. Yeah, we still have reservations." 

"Wonderful!" Kevin kisses him (it tastes so unbearably bitter) and hurries back to the broadcasting room. Charles and Vanessa exchange a look. She helplessly shrugs and gestures in Kevin's general direction. 

"He gets like this time to time. I’ve broken several coffee pots and mugs, but he just buys more!” Covering his nose, Charles shuffled into the break room, immediately dumping out whatever remained in the pot out the window. It is pitch black, consistency of mud, and smells like if you combined gasoline and chlorine. He soaks it in the sink and gets a new pot out, making a batch with the coffee he brought; the fragrance is much, much more palatable. He cleans off all the white powder on the counter that he found was just crushed energy pills (thank several gods) and opens any windows to let fresh air in. 

There was another time Kevin came by to make dinner after Charles made an off-hand comment on how he had a lot of papers to grade. But as he sat at the dining table with Donovan, the last thing he wanted to focus on was said papers, eyes continuously straying over to Kevin. Specifically, Kevin’s hand that is trembling while it cut fruit. His legs more or less fumbled with their tasks. Donovan bit his lip and slid off his chair, gently tugging on Kevin’s skirt. 

“Dad? Dad, are you okay?” He asked. Kevin smiles, laughs, and nods. Donovan looks wholly unconvinced. “Papa, Dad doesn’t look good.”

“No no, I feel as peachy as ever Donnie!” He pats the top of Donovan’s head, ruffling his curls. “Dinner’s almost ready, do you want apple or orange juice tonight?” Donovan protests that he really doesn’t seem to be okay, but Kevin just repeats his question and he mumbles orange juice. He shuffles back to his seat and picks at the plastic straw, exchanging anxious glances with Charles. He sets his grading pens down. 

“Sunshine, why don’t you take a break?” Charles gets up and takes each tool the legs have, swatting away their attempts at resuming. He quickly finishes each task. “You don’t look good, let me finish up here.” Resting a hand over Kevin’s trembling one, he tries to pry his fingers off the knife handle. Kevin only tightens his grip more. He rests his other hand over the back of Kevin’s neck, right above where the spine started. “It’s okay, go sit down and have a glass of water.” The pan sizzles away. Kevin raises the knife again and resumes cutting as if he didn’t hear a word Charles said. 

Dinner passes awkwardly. Charles tries to talk but Kevin just keeps reorganizing his food on his plate over and over, smiling and making vague sounds of he’s listening. When he tries to take the plates, they’re already being swept up by the centipede legs and marched to the sink. Kevin scrubs, washes, rinses, dries, and puts all the plates and utensils back. In no time at all, the kitchen is spotless. 

“You know you don’t have to do everything, right?” Charles said when they’re standing at the entrance of the house, the usual time Kevin takes his leave. 

“It makes me happy doing things for you!” Kevin reassures, nuzzling against his cheek. Charles wants to tell him that it doesn’t make him happy when it’s done at his expense. 

“How about I swing by your place one day and cook dinner for you? Or give you a nice massage in the bath?” He never seen what a person short-circuiting looks like, but his best guess is what Kevin looks like right now, staring with the blankest eyes ever. 

“Huh? Why would you do that? You already do so much for me!” He doesn’t feel like it. Charles rubs underneath Kevin’s eyes, and though it is a little difficult to tell with doorway shadow, there are significant bags underneath. The triangle tattoos under his eyes seem less bright. 

“When was the last time you took a break?”

“A what now?”

“A break.” And Kevin short-circuits further. Charles is very, very quickly feeling a surge of concern. “Kevin… do you take breaks? A day off? Just relax for a few hours?”

“Of course! When I stay the night, I sleep with you for a few hours!” 

“No no, that’s sleep, that doesn’t count. I mean taking a break from work during the day.” Kevin opens his mouth. “And our dates do not count, because 90% of the time you're focused on pampering me. I’m talking about just a day for yourself.” He bites his lip and scratches the side of his head, eyes lighting back up. 

“Oh! Oh, yes! I took one three months ago!”  _ Three months ago _ . Charles is going to scream. “Well, it’s getting awfully late, I should really be going!” Two quick cheek kisses. “Sweetest dreams, Charles!” And before he could grab his wrist, Kevin is already halfway down the street and turning out of view. 

The next day, Charles drops by the radio station, praying that it wasn’t reeking of “coffee” again. Thankfully, there was no smell. But also, there was no Kevin, despite his broadcast going. Vanessa explained and showed that today was a pre-recorded broadcast, one of several stockpiled. 

“He came in, but only for like a minute or two. He said he felt weird and told me to play one of these for the day.” Charles really hoped that meant Kevin was taking a break day. It wouldn’t hurt to stop by his house and make him lunch, right? He can remember whenever he took a break from teaching and religious studies, Kevin dropped by and practically did everything for him; he felt like a pampered prince, plenty of kisses and thank yous exchanged. It was about time Kevin let him do something for him. 

The radio host was a little wary of surprises, but this couldn’t hurt, could it? 

Driving to Kevin’s house, it was right near the church. Charles stopped by just to check that he wasn’t at the service. Kellan confirmed so, Kevin hasn’t come in today. He parks outside the little house and knocks on the door. 

“Kev? Kevin, are you in there?” No response. Charles knocked harder. “Sunshine?” Another series of knocks. Was he not home? “Kevin! Kevin, are you in?” He fishes out the key and unlocks the door. “Kevin, I’m coming in!” Locking the door behind him, Charles immediately cringes at the smell of cleaning chemicals. Even here? He gets using free time to tidy up, but everytime he visited Kevin's house, it was pretty much spotless. Like Kevin barely lived in it at all. He opens a few windows to air out the smell, poking his head into each room. "Kev?"

Looking into the kitchen, Charles feels his heart stop. Kevin passed out on the kitchen floor. The edge of the counter is stained with blood. There's a thin trail trickling down his forehead. A bucket and mop are overturned and Charles is  _ so  _ grateful that it spilled away from Kevin's face rather than towards. 

"Kevin! Kevin, are you okay?!" He drops down immediately and shakes his shoulder hard. "Kevin! Kevin!" A slight splash of relief comes when he feels him stir. 

"Whaaaat?" Kevin groaned, swatting Charles' hands away and sitting up with a yawn. Charles feels both relieved and in disbelief. "I was taking a break." Kevin muttered, rubbing his sockets. 

"W… What do you think a break is?" Charles stammered, and when Kevin explains, he wants to slap his cheek and yell that wasn't a funny joke, but also hug him tightly and never let go in suspicion that it really wasn't a joke. The blood still trickling down his head makes him lean for the latter. 

"You could get away with a break if you passed out while working, but there's always the risk of falling on an electrical fence, hot wires, knives, running machinery, you know." Kevin shrugs. "So whenever I start feeling weird, like my vision starts tunneling, I go home so when I take my break, I'm somewhere without danger! I sometimes speed the process up by cleaning or slamming my head against something." Charles stares.

"... Kevin. That weird feeling is your body shutting down because you're overworking." Kevin's remark from last night rings again in Charles' head, his eyes going wide. "Do you only sleep when you stay the night?" 

"Mmm." Kevin picks up the overturned bucket and starts cleaning the bloodstains. Charles rips the mop out of his hands. "Charles?" 

"When was the last time you slept?"  _ Please do not say the last time we slept together.  _

"I think… the last time I stayed over?" Both parental and lover instincts are going haywire. That blood is still trickling. Charles grabs the nearest paper towel and wets it, cleaning it off Kevin's face. He finds a box of bandaids and puts it on the cut. "Aww, thank you dear! You didn't have to!" Kevin picks up the mop again. Charles grabs it back. 

"You are in no shape to continue, you need to take a proper rest now!" His voice is a good octave higher than usual. Kevin laughs and waves his hand. 

"It's no big deal! Besides, it was about time I woke up anyway-"

"No, no no!" He flinches as Charles near on yells, voice going higher with each no. "Kevin, you need to rest!" 

"The kitch-"

"I'll clean it! Please, just lie down for a bit! Sleep for as long as you want, take a nap, even close your eyes, but  _ rest! _ " And before he could protest, Charles hauled him up by his wrist and marched to the bedroom. He shoves him a little unceremoniously onto the bed and shuts the door. Immediately getting to cleaning the blood in the kitchen, the panic in his blood remains, Charles gripping the mop tightly. 

What would have happened if Kevin hit his head on something worse? Or gods forbid, knocked the glass containers on the counter over and shattered glass everywhere? What if he didn't come in? What if the cut was worse? 

He takes a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead against the mop handle. He doesn't know how he'd react to those scenarios. And hopes he never has to. 

As he's dumping out the dirty water, Charles hears a quiet click. Before it registers in his still-anxious mind, there's another click. He turns around. 

The front door is open and Kevin's shoes are missing. The bedroom door is open. Not even thirty minutes later, the radio crackles to life and Kevin's reporting with his usual chipper, happy, and melodic voice. Speaks nothing of the fact he just collapsed from exhaustion. It's horrifying. Charles wants to scream at Kevin. 

But as he sits down in the already-cleaned house, he stares at the cluttered mess that is his office. It never seemed to be organized. There are mountains of papers, news, notices, requests, complaints, articles, etc. Charles sits down in the rickety chair and reigns his thoughts back in, resisting the urge to fire a strongly-worded message. He lets the panic in his blood ebb away by sorting one of the several piles. 

He's not mad at Kevin. Quite the opposite. If anything, he's worried and scared. Why Kevin never took breaks, never asked for anything beyond kisses, never stopped working. 

There's a story tucked in the dark, Strexcorp and the first Desert Bluffs, with Kevin in the center of it all. There are bits and pieces, like a puzzle, and from time to time they get spat out of the void for Charles to put together. Sometimes, he gets several pieces and holds Kevin tight, unable to comprehend how strong his boyfriend is to crawl out alive. Sometimes, he gets half from an offhand comment Kevin makes, and the other half comes when they are alone with only the Smiling God listening. 

Charles can feel that this is a piece as well. Another link between whatever vile entity Strexcorp was and Kevin. It's difficult for him to talk about his feelings, usually escaping to work on another project or a sudden event that needs his attention. Kevin immediately dipping back to the station wasn't usual. The flinch and startled look on his face when Charles yelled at him still made his chest ache. 

Charles leaned back, noticing that he managed to shrink a daunting pile into manageable stacks. It was a little dent in the mountain, but still something. At least there was more of a workspace now. It didn't take long for him to find a pen and blank notepad to start planning the next break day. 

He first asks the church members if they mind leading the services while Kevin is away. Kelton and Kelly were more than delighted to do so. Vanessa already had the pre-recorded segments to play, grinning as Charles explained his plan to her. 

"You know, Kevin really wants somebody to sweep him off his feet." She remarked, Charles raising a brow. "You know, carried like a fairy? Twirl him around in the air and all?"

"Really now?"

"I'm sure you've noticed his strength?" Of course he has. Whenever Donovan accidentally lost something under the couch, Kevin would casually pick up the entire couch so he could get it back. He has bent metal with his bare hands. They had to get a new headboard for their bed because Kevin broke it. "Not to mention the majority of people are pretty… eggshelly around him." Charles taps his pen against his chin a few times, scribbling down an idea. Vanessa slaps his back (it feels like a breeze passing over his shoulder). "Oh, he is going to gush about that on the radio  _ all day _ !" 

As much as he wants Donovan to be with them, maybe not for this first run. He knows Kevin loves Donovan dearly and with all his heart, but there are times where he needs one-on-one attention. There will be plenty of future chances where they can all take a day off as a family. Or even go on a vacation as a family! Charles presses the notepad against his mouth as his chest flutters and his cheeks bloom with warmth at that thought; not this time, but… sometime in the ever-bright future. 

Josephine and Eriks are more than happy to babysit, especially Erik with the several arms (last time he came by, them and Donovan created ultra-patty cake). 

The last person he needed to ask took a few days to find, but he felt that it would be well worth it. 

Charles waits, a strange mix of sadness and excitement as Kevin begins his downward spiral once more. The days tick forward and it takes all of his willpower to not just initiate the plan now. One day he won't need to wait. But this first run, he needs a part of Kevin that wants to rest for this to succeed. He can't have him running back to work, hands busy scratching the itch to work, work, work. So he waits, biting his tongue as Kevin's hands tremble with too much caffeine, his smiles always tired and never reaching his eyes, and centipede legs continuously reaching for more tasks. Finally, he settles on a date to start. 

Perhaps the Smiling God also wanted Kevin to relax, because on said day one of Donovan's friends is having a birthday party, meaning Josephine doesn't even need to babysit. It would be good for Donovan to get his mind off of how “Dad isn't looking good, Papa, is he okay?” and trying his five-year-old ways to make Kevin feel better. Though, the pasta art really did brighten up his day considerably. It's hanging on a bloodless wall in the broadcasting room. 

Early afternoon, Charles drops Donovan off at his friend's house, Donovan holding his present as if it was a newborn puppy. The box is all neatly wrapped up with an orange ribbon tied on top. He helps Donovan out, kisses his forehead, ruffles his hair, and reminds him to enjoy himself. Donovan smiles and nods, kissing him on the cheek. 

“See you later, Papa.” He goes to join his friends in the living room, setting the present down with the other boxes. Charles exchanges a few pleasantries with the parents chaperoning before leaving, smiling as he sees Donovan happily chatting with the other kids. It's really nice seeing him with other kids his age. 

After making a few phone calls to make sure everything has been covered, Charles parks outside the radio station. Kevin's show is due soon. He gets out, leans against the passenger door, and waits patiently. Not long later, Kevin comes into view walking down the street, blinking when he spots Charles. He smiles wide. 

“Charles! Oh, it's so nice to see you here!” He skips right over and kisses him, light and cheerful. Charles rests his hand under Kevin's chin to keep it tilted up, kissing him more deeply. His other hand reached below and lifted him right up, turning so his back leaned against the car. Kevin squeaks in surprise, cheeks blooming red. “W-Well! Not expected, but so very welcome!” Charles grinned and kissed him again, keeping him held up. 

“Just thought it would be a nice way to start your break day.” Kevin blinks again, but does not smile afterwards. More or less tilts his head, confused. 

“Break? I'm not taking one. I need to do my broadcast.” The radio crackles to life, and his pre-recorded segment begins playing. Kevin looks over Charles shoulder and Vanessa grins from the station porch, waving. “Vanessa, what did you-”

“I have a reservation for the Sandy Blossom Bowling Alley and Arcade Joy Compound, and it seems like you're free right now.” He gently sets Kevin back down. “Join me?” Kevin glances at the radio station, at him, back at Vanessa who does something that makes Kevin pout, and then back at him. Charles opens up the passenger door and prays in his head. 

Kevin gets in, and he sighs in relief. 

Charles holds open the doors, pays for lunch despite Kevin's protests, and gets up every time he makes a comment that he's hungry or thirsty. Kevin, at first, was flattered and laughed, then became confused, then suspicious, and then very reluctant acceptance. He does ask Charles’ what's with the sudden attention after they finish their second round of bowling and gets a kiss on the cheek. 

“Just hoping you're enjoying your break, sunshine.” Charles said, holding up his arcade card. “So, I just refilled this up and was wondering how many prizes can we win before it runs out?” How Kevin's eyes lit up metaphorically in delight, clapping his hands together excitedly and immediately sprinting for the dart games. It is like throwing knoves, but so much easier. Charles spends some time around the claw machines, managing to win a very cute centipede plush complete with realistic mandibles and poseable legs. Kevin hugged it with a gleeful squeal and jumped up and down. 

It's difficult to see why people would be on eggshells around him when he's like this. 

After amassing as many prizes and plushies that they could fit in Charles’ car, he stops by an ice cream truck for a midday snack. He gets a triple scoop for Kevin: honey lemon, calcium, and sweet lip with teeth sprinkles. They leaned against his car and chatted, Kevin sitting cross-legged on the hood as he bit into the scoops. Charles ate a spoon-worth of strawberry from his cup. 

“And don't even get me started on her turnovers! I'm pretty sure if I picked up a handful of sand and one of those atrocious pastries in the other, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference!” Kevin makes the motions of rolling his eyes and bites another chunk of honey lemon out. The sprinkles make crunchy sounds. “I don't know Lauren's deal! If she actually wanted to be welcomed back in my church, shouldn't she have put in a  _ little  _ bit more effort?” Another bite, this time from sweet lip. 

“I mean, besides the flakiness, is there anything else that was wrong about her turnovers?” 

“Ugh! Her jam was just so,  _ so  _ sweet and liquidy, the dough had about a teaspoon of flavor, the insides of my cheeks burned for a good five minutes,” Charles lowered his spoon, “and presentation could've been vastly improved with, hmm… a minor change or fifty.” 

“Sunshine, are you sure Lauren wasn't trying to poison you?” Kevin takes a thoughtful bite, catching a bit of the cone. 

“Now that you mention it, maybe! But she knows I have a tolerance to about twenty varieties of poisons, possession, and chemicals in both liquid and gas form. She is really going to need to try harder to get back on my friends list!” A bite out of calcium. It crunches pretty loudly. Charles turns back to his cup, taking a scoop out of raspberry pomegranate. The coloration is similar to blood. Kevin leans forward and holds his wrist, Charles rolling his eyes with an fond sigh as he stole the scoop. 

“Don't you have your own cone to be finishing there?”

“I can't steal a few bites?” Charles tries to put on his stern face. It lasts a good five seconds before they both burst into laughter, resuming conversation. He lets Kevin have as many bites as he likes. Kevin takes a bite of honey lemon, a bit left over on the corner of his mouth. “Can I try that one?”

“Sure!” He holds out his cone. Charles leans forward and kisses it off his mouth, licking his lips with a smirk as Kevin's cheeks flood with pink. 

“Pretty good! I'm going to need to get that flavor next time.” And he turns back to his own cup innocently as Kevin is still short-circuiting. “Sunshine, your ice cream is going to melt if you keep on holding it out in the sun like that.” Once their sweet treats were polished off and cup thrown away, Kevin stretches and jumps off the hood. 

“Aah, it's been fun, but I really need to get going to the church. There's a service that's scheduled to start soon, and-”

“Oh, Kelly already is covering for that.” Kevin has that confused look again. “I was wondering if you want to meet up with an old friend of yours instead? Catch up and all.” He freezes, tenses up, flexes his centipede legs a few times, and bites his lip. It's that look in the house. Work and leisure fighting over who triumphs. 

“Will this involve an oak door of some kind?”

“No, no doors are involved.” 

“Okay. Okay, I'll come.” Charles starts up the car and begins to drive. The weather plays, Kevin reclining back and playing with one of his daggers. He flips it between his fingers and palms, practicing different grips and testing how many times can he spin it on his fingers. It's mesmerizing to watch. Charles drives a bit on the slower side. 

“I know that I can't really give you much of a spar match, since I'm not that experienced in combat.” Kevin fumbles with the knife for a brief second, opening his mouth. Charles holds his hand up, knowing he's going to deny those words and say he's wonderful to spar with. “So I invited somebody that should be more your speed!” Driving out of the town borders, Kevin sat up a little straighter, no longer playing with his knife. He gives a wary glance as they head for the ever-present lighthouse. 

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see.”

“Charles, you know I'm… not exactly the best with surprises.” 

“I know, and I promise you're going to like this one.” He gently rests a hand on Kevin's. “Trust me?” Kevin bit his lip and slowly relaxed, though he put away his dagger. Charles parked at the base of the mountain next to a series of large boulders, turning the engine off and getting out. Scaling one of the boulders, he held up one of his silver necklaces, reflecting the sunlight. He flashed it a few times, smiling when the ground began to rumble. 

“Charles, Charles what did you do?” Kevin immediately ducked out of the car, climbing up to where he was. “Get down from there, you might fall!” He lied down and gripped the edge, the centipede legs locking around him like a cage. Kevin firmly gripped his shirt as the rumbling became stronger, knife drawn. “What did you do?!” A dust cloud formed on the horizon. “Charles, I swear to the Smiling God, what did you-” Figures appeared from the haze and Charles lets out a whoop of joy. 

“There they are!” Kevin squinted his eyes. As they came closer, his grimace turned upwards. 

“Oh. My. Smiling. God. You did not!” Kevin's eyes flew as wide as they could go, smile showing all of his teeth in a genuine way. Charles waved at the front two figures slowing down to a walk, Kevin leaping off the boulders and charging forward. “DOUG! ALICIA!” The rest of the masked giants came to rest at the boulders, Charles moving to park his car underneath the shade of an overarching cliff. He giggled as Alicia's bichon frise plopped down next to him with a slobbery lick, snuggling against the car to enjoy the heat of the engine. 

“It has been a while since we met, bright one.” Kevin grinned and laughed, airy and friendly. Doug lifted him up on his palm so they could be eye-to-mask eye, the height difference staggering. 

“Yes, yes it has! Oh, it is absolutely wonderful seeing you guys again!” He's bouncing up and down, centipede legs clicking together. “How have you been? Any hard-won battles? New members? Ooh, is that Jackson and Patruse I see? Hiii!” Two of the masked giants waved back. 

“Before we catch up, Jackson has wanted to spar with you for a while. He's gotten quite a lot of experience since the last time you two fought.” Alicia opened her hand to reveal a variety of sticks dipped in yellow paint; they look like toothpicks to her size. Kevin squealed and clapped. 

“Oh, oh yes! I would be more than happy to! Let me take off my regular knives first, though!” Doug lowered his hand so Kevin can hop off. He took off his wrap skirt and folded it up into a nice rectangle, setting all of his knives on top. Wrist daggers, thigh daggers, his main stiletto blade, and two on his boots. Charles tries to not look at the black shorts Kevin wore underneath the skirt and the absolute territory between said shorts and stockings. He looks at the knives instead, picking one up; they have golden engravings etched into the handle, the edge gleaming. Just looking at it makes his skin feel like it's being shallowly cut into. He quickly puts it back down. 

Kevin hurried back and took the sticks from Alicia, putting them where the knives resided. Jackson and he walk a bit out, getting into their ready stance. They raised their club, Kevin brandishing two smaller sticks. 

“Ready when you are.” Jackson rumbled. Kevin grins, nods, and charges forward. 

Charles watches with his mouth open. Like a yellow lazer, whipping and darting around Jackson. Kevin really was holding back with their spars. Though Jackson was equally impressive, surprisingly fast for their size. They slash and swipe at each other, Kevin nicking paint lines all over them. Thin streaks. Alicia explained that they represented a shallow attack, if it were a real blade, it would not be enough to penetrate their skin. 

Kevin sprints between Jackson’s legs and scaled up another set of boulders easily with two jumps. Before they turned around he leaps forward and extends his legs out. They reach short, Jackson slamming their club into him. His body flies into a sand dune. 

“KEVIN!” Charles cried, panic gripping his chest. Doug carefully patted a finger on his head. They point, and as the sand cloud clears, panic washes away to pure awe. Kevin is standing and brushing off the excess sand, grinning and wiping some spit from his mouth. He bares his teeth that shine in the sunlight, brandishing the larger stick. 

“Now we’re talking! You’ve gotten so much better!” He charges forward and by several gods, Charles cannot believe how strong and resilient Kevin is. Also, he won’t lie that it’s making his cheeks heat up. Watching your boyfriend show off his fighting prowess and agility is quite the spectacle. He can't even use the sun as an excuse since he parked in the shade of the boulders. 

Kevin grabs Jackson’s club as they went for a swing, digging his nails in and flinging himself up. The legs allow him to scuttle upside down, running up their arm and charging straight for the neck. Charles flinches as Jackson slams their huge hand down around their neck. They release, and no Kevin is in their hand. Whirling around and swinging, a loud  _ CRACK  _ made his heart skip a beat. In the last second, he sees Kevin swing, the club comes back around, and his body flies through the air. Kevin rights himself back up for a three-point landing, slamming into the ground and panting heavily. Sweat dripped down his face. The stick has been splintered in half. He collapses, just managing to support himself on one elbow. 

Jackson turns to him and the sun reveals a thick, yellow paint slash across the back of their neck. Kevin grins and raises his stick. 

“A draw, I’m so proud of you!” They high-five and congratulate each other on their fighting skills, Kevin offering a few tips and pointers as they head back to rejoin the camp. Charles tries really hard to ignore the sweat slick on Kevin’s body, his curls sticking to his face as he’s giddy on adrenaline. Kevin hopped onto the hood of the car with him, crossing his legs with a smile. “I hope you enjoyed the show, Charles.”

“I was captivated, I don’t think there are words to describe how amazing you were!” Charles kissed his cheek, Kevin giggling and kissing his cheek back. “They should write a sermon just about your fighting prowess! I can just imagine the epic ballad for it…”

“Now now, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Kevin’s attention quickly switched over to catching up with Doug and Alicia, happily telling him all about Desert Bluffs Too, his community radio host job, and of course, Charles. Alicia nods in approval. 

“He is a good fit. It takes dedication to find us.” Charles blushed and lowered his head as they gently patted his shoulder, Kevin beaming. “He does look like the scientist. He was very dedicated as well.” Kevin is no longer beaming. Charles tucks a curl behind his ear; he has heard a few stories about a scientist living in a town called Night Vale that apparently looks identical to him. Carlos. He can tell Carlos was a bit of a sore topic for Kevin, opting to clap his hands and direct attention away. 

“So! You all used to know each other? Tell me, has Kevin always been this amazing?” The stories Doug and Alicia shared about Kevin made Charles more than often stare at him in wonder, Kevin twirling a loose curl around his finger with an embarrassed and smug smile. 

“He was quite the help during our battles! A little secret weapon!”

“Aww, Alicia! You give me too much credit!” 

“It is true, how many times did our enemy turn around and then suddenly collapse from a wound to the neck or head?” Kevin is beaming again. Eventually, the army needed to move out. The two stand on top of the boulders and wave goodbye as the masked army disappeared over the sand dunes, Doug and Alicia the last to disappear from view. Kevin sighed, smiling fondly. 

“Ah… I really did miss them. Did you know they helped me construct the radio station? And a few houses along the outskirts of town.” He clasps his hands together, whispering a quiet prayer under his breath. Charles guessed it was a blessing for the army. They climb down the boulders, he starts up the car, Kevin lounges in the passenger seat, and they head back to Desert Bluffs Too. The drive is relatively quiet with the weather going. “... Hey, babe?”

“Hm?”

“You were right. I really, really liked that surprise.” Kevin played with his dagger. “It means a lot to me that you went out of your way to find them.”

“Just want you to enjoy your break, that’s all.” They drive in silence for a little longer. He sees Kevin stare at the blade, tucking it back into his wrist sleeve. He’s fiddling with his skirt, scrunching parts of it up then releasing. 

“... Thank you.” Charles smiles. 

“Anytime, Kev.” It is evening when they arrive at Charles’ house, Kevin thoroughly tired out and still very, very happy. “You sure you can stand?” Charles teases as he opens the passenger door, holding his hand out. “You did go pretty hard back there.”

“It’s not like my legs are broken, dear!” Kevin takes his hand and gets out, stumbling as his knees buckled. Charles took this as enough of an excuse to loop his arm under his knees, Kevin squeaking as he was lifted into a bridal carry. Charles kicks the passenger door closed. “... Would you mind if I said a prayer right now?” He laughed and walked up to the house, opening the door. With a little twirl and skip, Charles hopped over the threshold, pressing a kiss against Kevin’s forehead as they both burst into laughter. He didn’t miss how Kevin giggled more to himself, cheeks once again pink. “Charles, darling, we haven’t even had dinner yet!”

“I can’t ward my boyfriend from some evil spirits?” He sets Kevin down on the kitchen counter, kissing his nose. “Who knows? Perhaps a malevolent entity followed us from the arcade because we were greedy and got too many prizes.” 

“Well, I guess you should carry me over the threshold again, just in case.” 

“With pleasure!” Each time Kevin came back from the car, arms and legs full of plushies, Charles gladly scooped him up and brought him into the house, peppering plenty of kisses between. It didn’t take long for them to dump their haul in the living room to be sorted tomorrow, Kevin patting Charles’ back to let him down. 

“Your arms must be real sore.” 

“I don’t mind. It’s good practice for the future!” Kevin’s mouth slightly opens, eyes wide and cheeks red. Charles grinned and let him down. “Go take a shower.” No questions asked. As he showered, Charles gets the bathtub filled with just below scalding water, adds plenty of bubble soap, and a few drops of scented oil he managed to find from his suitcase. Pine scent, from a souvenir shop in Pine Cliffs. Kevin gets out with all the sand and dirt washed out, blinking at the now very bubbly bathtub. 

“I just washed.”

“And now it’s time to relax! I know your muscles must be aching from that fight, what better way to relax than a hot bath?” No cracks in his reasoning. Kevin tries to protest but finds no words, deciding to just go along with Charles and sink in. Any words that might have came immediately disappeared as he sighed in relief, already feeling the aching ebbing away. Charles gently ran his fingers through his already wet curls, scratching at the scalp and humming under his breath. 

He massaged Kevin’s head, behind the ears, a bit of his shoulders, and the top of the spine. Right in the middle of the neck, where the protruding spine for the centipede legs started. He dug his thumb into that area, Kevin shivering in delight and cracking his neck a few times. 

“Oh, that feels gooooooood.” 

“I’m happy to hear so, dear.” Kevin tilts his head back as Charles leans forward to massage his shoulders more, resting against his thigh. He has a soft smile, edges of his eyes crinkling up. Oh, how he could see that smile again and again. “The water temperature, it’s not too hot, right?” 

“It’s perfect, just like you.” He chuckles and pours water over Kevin’s face slowly, the water droplets sliding off his cheeks and glinting on his eyelashes. Kevin hummed in content, nuzzling against Charles’ thigh and drawing little smiley faces in the bubbling foam. Charles notices that the nail polish has chipped off, leaving plain nails. He moves to the other side of the tub, massaging Kevin’s ankles and feet. “Babe, if you keep that up, I’m going to fall asleep, slip into the water, and drown.” 

“Do you want me to stop then?”

“Don’t you dare.” Kevin flicks a few water droplets with a pout, Charles laughing and continuing. He moves back to the front end to work on Kevin’s back, bending him slightly forward to massage the shoulder blades. Every once in a while, he runs his hands over the spine, each segment a little bump. It feels strangely satisfying to run his palm over, with the added benefit of making Kevin shiver in delight. 

Once his body was roughly the same firmness as Jello, Charles hummed away an old church hymn as Kevin rested his head on his thigh, rhythmically stroking his curls. He pats his shoulder. 

“I”m going to go make dinner, you relax here as long as you want.” Kevin whines for a second but quickly placated with a forehead kiss, sleepily resting his head and arms on the edge of the tub as Charles dried his legs off. He moved to the kitchen and got the ingredients out of the fridge. Ingredients, specially bought to make Kevin’s favorite meals. He did consider going out for dinner, but a home-cooked meal seemed much more appealing. Even if he has to stand over the sink for a good three minutes draining the blood out of the meat - seriously, how does it even have that much blood?

Well, Kevin likes his steaks bloody, so no points lost for extra juice. 

Adding deboned peppers, he manages to get the onions to stop crying first-try. Seasoned vegetables, the pan sizzling away as he rooted through the spice cabinet. Extra salt, pepper, some paprika, something he can't exactly read the label of but gives the meat an extra kick to it, and a little cooking wine to finish it all off. Charles tries a little piece and nearly lets out a hollar of victory. 

As he's plating the food, he can hear the water draining from the bathroom. There's the brief moment of the shower going, some shuffling, rustle of clothes, and finally door opening. Kevin emerges with Charles’ bathrobe, his oversized sleeping gown, and fluffy pink slippers. He has his nose pressed into the bathrobe, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric; the robe is half-on to let his centipede legs move around freely. 

“Dinner's ready!” Charles sings, popping open a bottle of rum. With some negotiation and a ritual or two, he managed to purchase a bottle of spirits from Pine Cliffs. Rum wasn't exactly the classiest, he would have opted for wine or mead, but the liquor tax for other locations was absurdly high and Pine Cliffs only produced spirit liquors. At least he got a discount for helping the distiller properly manage the spirits. 

“Babe! This looks amazing!” Kevin squealed, skipping over. Charles pushed his chair in for him and filled the wine glass, kissing his cheek. He takes a bite and moans. “Perfection! You've really improved!” 

“Finally figured out how to make lizard meat tender.” They clinked glasses, dining room lit up by the ever-present sunlight streaming through the windows. Dinner passes comfortably, the two chatting and stealing bites of food from each other's plates. They held hands across the table, Charles continuously running his thumb over Kevin's hand; the skin was rough, calloused, and patchy in areas of heavy scarring and burns. He made a mental note to add hand cream or lotion to the list of gifts for Kevin. 

Their plates and glasses were polished off in due time, now just sitting in quiet conversation. Kevin got up to collect the plates. Charles immediately snatched everything up and swatted away the centipede legs trying to take it back. 

“Charles!” 

“No no, you're still on break. I'm doing dishes tonight.” Kevin whined. “Nuh-uh. Go lie down on the couch or something, relax and put on a movie.” He smacks away his attempts at getting the dishes for the third time, Kevin reluctantly slinking off to the living room. Charles hears a documentary on “Shocking Revelations about Invertebrates” be put on and guesses Kevin immediately skipped to the centipede section. He washed and dried all the pans and bowls, scrubbing at particularly stubborn stains and burnt blood stains. Picking up their plates, he feels a pair of arms and an additional four legs wrap around his waist and chest. 

“Couch cold without you.” Kevin mumbled into his neck. Charles smiled and turned his face to kiss him on the forehead. 

“I'm almost done.” He smacks the centipede legs trying to reach for the dish towel as if they were a kid's hand reaching for the cookie jar before dinner. Kevin whined again. “No work.” They remained like that for the rest of dish-washing, Kevin resting his head against the back of Charles’ neck and occasionally nuzzling. After drying and putting everything back to where they belong, Charles turned around and leaned against the counter, cupping Kevin's cheeks and kissing the tip of his nose. “Thank you for being patient, sunshine.” Kevin murmurs happily and nuzzles under his chin. “What do you want to do now?” 

“Well, there's this editorial I should start on or this new constru-” Charles narrows his eyes, Kevin lowering his. He waits for him to think of another activity. It worries him how long it takes. “Can we… cuddle? There's the TV in the bedroom we can play for bedroom noise.” 

“Of course.” Moving to the bedroom, Charles slides his bathrobe off Kevin. His fingers trail over the sun tattoo on his shoulder, tracing the flowering vines peeking over the sleeping gown's sleeve. One gentle kiss for the sun center, six more for each ray. Kevin blushes but says nothing, letting Charles take the bathrobe and hang it on the closet. The doorbell rings. “Ah shoot, that must be Carolyn dropping Donovan off from the birthday party.” Kevin's smile falls. “Let me just get him to shower and to bed. I won't take more than fifteen minutes, promise.” 

“... Okay. Fifteen minutes?” Charles kisses the eyelashes along the third eye. 

“Promise. Make yourself comfortable here in the meantime.” He runs to the front door and as predicted, Donovan with Carolyn. He thanks her profusely for sending Donovan back, bidding her a restful sleep. Donovan, thankfully, was pretty tired from the party, just managing to stay awake for a quick shower and change into PJs. As soon as he hit the bed he was snoring, hugging his favorite sun plushie. 

Charles takes the time to also shower and change, making a quick stop at the hallway closet before going back to the bedroom. He opens the door to see Kevin curled on the bed against the wall, face buried in his jacket and fingers running over the patches. When he closes the door with a click, Kevin raised his head and smiled. 

“Was it less than fifteen minutes?” Charles set down a folded yellow fleece blanket to the side. 

“Mmm… Sixteen.” Kevin nuzzles his neck, taking in a deep breath. “Is that my floral soap? You smell wonderful with it…” 

“Guess I have to make it up to you then.” Charles sets a box from the dresser on the nightstand. When he opens it up and takes a bottle out, Kevin realizes it's his nail polish set, gasping in delight. He starts with his right hand, going through all the steps: pushing back the cuticles, filing the nail edges, cleaning underneath the nail. He didn't even realize himself that the nail polish had chipped off. “What colors would you like?” Charles wipes his fingers with a damp cloth. 

“Surprise me!” He goes with gold to match the centipede tattoo encircled around Kevin's arm, the index and ring getting a deep red. Carefully staying within the nail bed, he reaches over to get out the stamps and patterns. The TV switches over to the history of obelisks. He presses a tooth stamp onto the middle finger, centipede legs on the thumb, and teeth for the rest. “This looks so beautiful, thank you so much!” 

“I'm glad you like it.” Charles blows to let the polish dry, cleaning up the edges. Kevin blinks as he takes his left hand. 

“Oh, I can do that-”

“Let me. Please?” And Kevin has the same expression on his face, staring at Charles filing his nails. 

“... Okay, what is going on? Why are you doing all this?” And it hurts him so much that Kevin sounds not only confused, but scared. On edge. Like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. If he had his knife right now, his hand would most definitely be resting on the hilt. 

“I like doing things for you.” He starts with the index finger. Pearly white, to match the spiraling tattoo along the finger. “You work so much, always giving to somebody, the town, the Smiling God, or me.” An extra coat on top to make it opaque. Charles looks for a stamp. 

“I give plenty to myself! Why, the Mudstone Abyss construc-”

“For the Smiling God.” Kevin laughs. Nervous. 

“Well, I'm an extension and it's prophet, yes. But I wanted it, so it counts right?”

“Kevin.”

“Charles.” He sighs. Kevin's smile falls a little.

“Why the sigh?” 

“Kevin, you don't give to yourself and you know it.” 

“I do! I do, like today-”

“Would you do what we did alone? Without my initiative or for me?” Silence. Charles paints the middle finger a bright red. It stands out brilliantly against Kevin's skin. “You work so much, yet give yourself so little.” His fingers go rigid. Charles still has his head lowered to focus on painting, but does glance up through his eyelashes. “Am I wrong?”

“...” He gently blows. “... Doesn't feel right.” Kevin mumbles, eyes downcast. Charles adds a second layer of red. 

“Why?” Third layer. 

“I just…” He knows Kevin is looking around for something to change the topic, but it's already the end of the day. There's nothing he needs to check in with, there's nothing he can escape to. Charles lets the polish dry. “I just don’t think I should. There’s always more work. More things that need fi-” He is so glad that he was in the middle of choosing another color. Kevin suddenly smacks himself in the face, suppressing a swear under his breath. Charles quickly holds his wrist just in case he does it again, rubbing at the reddening spot. “More things that need… to be resolved.” Kevin concludes, sounding as if each word was plucked from a Scrabble bag. 

“And why do you feel that you’re the one that needs to work on all these?” Charles asks, picking up sunflower yellow and dark chocolate brown. He patiently waits for an answer as he paints Kevin’s thumb a pastel yellow, lays a sunflower pattern over it, and carefully fills in the petals. Kevin tenses up, relaxes, tenses again, grinds his centipede legs together, and tenses up further. 

“Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“I want to help you.” A sponge to help the yellow to orange gradient. “You are always working, trying to do everything yourself. Why is that?” And Kevin doesn’t respond for five minutes as Charles fills in the seeds in the center and gives the edges white tips. It makes the design really pop. 

“... If I don’t, things won’t go right.” It is so quiet, under his breath, Charles thought it was a passing breeze at first. Like the shadows murmured. “Things need to go perfectly right. I can’t have a repeat. If I do everything, that means things go perfectly right, and perfectly right is fine.” 

“You can’t do everything, Kevin.” A coat of gloss on top to both protect and make it shiny. 

“I can try! It’s not like it’s going to kill me or anything!” Laughs. Kevin laughs and shakes his head and waves his free hand. Charles reaches up and grabs his wrist again. 

“Kevin.” They’re in Kevin’s house again, the expression making his heart ache. But he makes sure his voice doesn’t rise this time around. “You don’t have to do everything yourself.” He lowers his hand back into his lap, resuming painting. “It’s okay to ask for extra help. For somebody else.” Charles raises his eyes. “And you don’t need to ‘work’ for it. Just ask, whenever you want, whatever you want.” The ring finger gets pearly white. 

“You don’t have the full story.” Each word spat out, heavy with lead. Kevin’s eyes are matte, revealing nothing. Charles shrugs. 

“You’re right. I don’t.” He finishes painting the pinky finger and blows to get the polish to dry faster. “And I’m not going to ask you for it until you feel comfortable.” He feels Kevin jolt. “I don’t know the full extent of what you have gone through and I don’t know what you have done. But what I do know?” He gently raises Kevin’s hand, kissing along the calloused knuckles. “You fought every step of the way to get to where you are now.” He kisses the back of his hand. “You clawed, fought, bled, screamed, and came out giving whatever higher beings the middle finger.” He turns it around and kisses the palm, where old, old burn scars reside. “You’re still fighting, aren’t you?” A kiss on each finger pad.

“... I don’t deserve you.” Kevin whispers. Charles puts all the bottles away. He caresses his cheek, fingers running over the long smile scars. The third eye is slowly opening and closing, a cat’s blink. 

“I believe you do.” His thumb pad gently presses on Kevin’s lower lip and Kevin tenses up again, eyes flicking up and down. Still unsure what to do when given something so slow and delicate. 

Charles wants to find whoever hurt Kevin to have such a mindset and use that staff for good reason. He wants to show that it’s okay to take a day or two off, to ask for things, to ask for help. He wants to show that it’s okay to stop, to relax, without needing to “earn” it. He wants Kevin to know, to believe in what he believes in. There are so many things he wants.

He acts on one of them and slowly kisses Kevin, drinking in how his lips were slightly chapped and sweet. Pulling back,, Charles kisses him again, trailing his fingers from the cheeks to his neck and down his shoulders, playing with the edge of Kevin’s sleeve. He raises his other hand, kissing the palm and the inside of his wrist, along the roughened skin done by a long-discarded shackle. Kevin takes it all with a shaky exhale and flushed cheeks. 

“What you do deserve right now is rest.” Gently pushing him down onto the bed, Charles takes the fleece blanket and unfurls it, draping it over Kevin’s centipede legs. They rub comfortably over the soft material, Kevin pulling the blanket tighter around him with a quiet sigh. “Let’s get you comfortable.” Charles fluffed the pillow and drew the curtains to just let a little bit of sunlight in. The TV show was switched off. He lied down, Kevin nestling on his chest almost immediately. He loops an arm around him, fingers lazily winding through his curls. 

It’s quiet and peaceful. Kevin admires his new nails and rests his ear over Charles’ heart. It is a steady, firm heartbeat. Slow. Calm. Stable. An anchor. He still feels the lingering tingles of each kiss on his arms, flexing his fingers as if to grab at it. 

“... Charles?”

“Yes, sunshine?” 

“Can we do this again sometime?” Kevin widens his eyes when Charles’ heart rate goes up, sitting up immediately. The fleece blanket slips off his shoulders, centipede legs grinding against each other unhappily. “Only if you want to, of course! Whenever you have time and we have a babysitter for Donnie and you don’t have any other work and-” Charles’ shoulders tremble and Kevin feels his stomach twist in nausea. Is he mad? He should've just been happy with everything Charles did today, he was happy! He was so happy today, oh why did he ask for more, why-

And then Charles lets out a hearty laugh and he is thoroughly confused. 

"What makes you think that this is only happening once?" Charles teases, eyes sparkling. "This is the first of many break days I'm going to make you take." And oh, his smile, with his perfect teeth and comforting warmth. Kevin feels his stomach untwist and instead flutter and tickle. He lets out a small chuckle. How silly it was for him to think Charles, of all people, would be mad! 

Charles held his arms out and let Kevin lie back down to his original position. He fixes the fleece blanket back over his body, cradles his head with one hand, and holds out his other hand on his chest. Kevin takes it, intertwining their fingers together. 

"I love you, Kevin." Charles whispers, kissing his forehead. Kevin curls up further as drowsiness takes them both. Before he falls asleep, he feels a small, relaxed, happy smile pressed against his collarbone. 

"... I love you too, Charles." Kevin whispers back, squeezing his hand. They both drift off to sleep. 

~~~~~

Morning comes, Charles waking up to Kevin still sleeping on him, snoring quietly away. Their hands are still together, Charles very, very carefully letting go to tuck a curl behind Kevin's ear. He rarely wakes up to Kevin still there, on account that the man seemingly has an internal alarm system that jerks him awake as if somebody flipped a switch. He usually wakes up to Kevin in the kitchen or breakfast already made with a note apologizing for leaving early. 

Kevin looks shockingly peaceful, mouth turned in neither a frown or smile, chest slowly rising up and down. Not stained with blood, not burned with mayoral duties, not surrounded by mountains of papers, not up on a podium giving sermons, not speaking into a microphone, not fighting. Just… here, sleeping. 

He's only experienced half a break day. Time to give him a full one. 

When Kevin wakes up, he first blearily wonders where Charles went, feeling the empty spot next to him. A sudden panic grips the bottom of his stomach next, properly registering that it's an  _ empty spot _ . He sits up immediately, gripping the blanket tightly, searching the room frantically for a note, an indication, something. Something that shows Charles didn't leave him. The sun is streaming through the windows, his legs are trying to pick up the fleece blanket, there's no note, there's nothing, there's an empty spot next to him in bed. 

The stomach twisting and nausea returns like a metal rod smashed into his stomach. 

It must have been the tipping point, last night, the moment where Charles realizes it is too much to take care of him, why he always gives and never asks. He asks for too much, he  _ has  _ too much that needs to be resolved, he- 

The door swings open, and all his storming thoughts come to a surprised halt. 

"Breakfast in bed, sunshine!" Charles sings with a gleeful smile, holding a tray that looks more like a mini-buffet; Donovan sprints right in by his side with apple juice and glasses, yelling "good morning dad!" excitedly, and jumping into bed. Kevin widens his eyes as Charles sets up next to him, staring down at the spread. Charles kisses his cheek, grinning. "I woke up first this time and thought to continue your break day!" 

"Oh." Oh. Charles did leave, but to make breakfast. He isn't sure what to do next. 

"It's for you!" For him? If anything, he should be the one that made breakfast with all that Charles did yesterday. Not to mention- "I can hear your thoughts storming in there." Kevin blinks as Charles raps his knuckles against the side of his head, laughing. "Can't I make breakfast for my boyfriend? C'mon, eat before it gets cold." Charles cuts a waffle square out, puts a perfect amount of syrup inside, and tops it with a slice of strawberry. And as he holds it up with the stupidest big smile, Kevin feels like crying and laughing. 

"Thank you." He whispers and smiles. He eats waffle squares from Charles' fingers, joins Donovan in the fight for as much syrup on their pancakes as they want despite Charles' glares, clink wine glasses (and a juice box) filled with apple juice, and exchange plenty of kisses. Charles takes a napkin and wipes some stray whip cream off of the corner of Kevin's mouth, and Kevin wants to cry again at how gentle he is. His brown eyes are filled with nothing but the purest adoration, and he can't understand why or how, but doesn't question it and lets Charles continue wiping the cream away. Donovan sips his apple juice and gives a goofy grin when Kevin looks at him. 

"You look a lot better today Dad!" And oh how he wants to hug Donovan, ruffle his hair, and thank him for caring so much about him. But he doesn't because as sweet as a kid Donovan was, he is still five years old, so Kevin is more occupied with making sure the syrup doesn't spill onto the blankets. He does mentally make a note to buy the kid the biggest, fluffiest plushie when he gets the chance. 

Kevin gazes at Donovan and Charles, Charles busy cutting the pancakes into little triangles for Donovan to enjoy. He grins and holds up a triangle for Kevin, and he happily eats it. His heart flutters seeing them together, both smiling at him, unbothered by… everything about him. 

And as Charles kisses him, fingers sticky from syrup and lips tasting of powdered sugar, Kevin wonders why he ever worried in the first place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i learned that carrying the bride over the threshold is meant to ward off evil demons. learn a new thing everytime researching for fanfics! 
> 
> yeah i really just wanted a lot of soft moments between kevin/charles not gonna lie
> 
> also ngl something about how this chapter was written bugs me i think its too much word count   
> i need to get back into writing just regular fluff

**Author's Note:**

> this was going to be just one long one-shot but the doc is getting really long and i think it would be better if i split it up into chapters


End file.
